


Evaporation

by HiddenDirector



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drinking, Eventual Smut, Hangover, M/M, Making Out, Massage, Meet-Cute, Next Generation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Neglect, Post-Canon, slight - Freeform, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-08 00:58:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15231879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenDirector/pseuds/HiddenDirector
Summary: Centuries after Optimus Prime and his team brings Megatron in, Cybertron is still thriving.  This is largely because of the ever-evolving scientific community.  All scientists start in the same place, though: The Institute of Science in Crystal City.  Brainstorm, the biggest hopeful of the new generation of scientists, is just starting out there.  He's confident that he can rise above all his fellow students, but he has one major rival.Quark, the youngling of Perceptor, the Autobot Elite Guard's Minister of Science.





	1. Concentration

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't want to put the reason for the Canon Divergence in the tags, so instead I'll say it here. In this version of post-canon Prowl wasn't offlined during his merging of the All-Spark fragments.
> 
> Otherwise, the most I will say that it takes place centuries after the end of the series. I've always liked the idea of Brainstorm being really young in non-IDW canons, so I did so here. Quark is also young, as I have made him Perceptor's offspring, because his character model was based on TFA Perceptor. This story will also feature the younglings of other characters and pairings eventually. I'll keep adding all of this in the tags as I go.
> 
> (Also, I know I have other things I should be working on. I apologize to my readers for anything I'm putting off for this.)

Going to the Institute of Science was the dream of every aspiring bot of science on Cybertron.  It was nerve-wracking for everyone, no matter how smart they were.

Well, except Brainstorm.  He had nothing but confidence in his ability to keep up with the challenging curriculum and competitive atmosphere.  He was, after all, a genius.  Sure, he had a proclivity for questionable ethics, but the Ministry of Science was so impressed by the sheer scale he was willing to work on they signed his acceptance documentation personally.  Perceptor himself had said that he “had the potential for great things if pointed in the correct direction.”

Thus, the young mech had no problem walking through the massive doors of the dark-blue and grey main building.  So far, so good.  The reception desk was before him, the mech behind it currently on a comm-call while tapping through two different datapads.  Wow, he looked busy.

Not that Brainstorm was looking for an excuse to put off this last step in officially being a student here.  No, he had complete self-assurance.  He vented in deeply and stepped forward to approach the desk.

…Only to be knocked clean off his pedes as someone slammed right into him at full speed.

“Primus!” Brainstorm yelped, hitting the floor.  He looked at who hit him and was struck by a strange bit of recognition.  The mech rubbing his helm dazedly as he sat on the floor next to him felt somehow familiar.  He was almost completely white with light blue detailing.  He was thin and lanky, almost gangly.  With his other hand, he adjusted a tiny, blue visor.

“My apologies,” the mech muttered, finally looking at Brainstorm and resetting his optics.  “Is… there a problem?” he asked.  His vocals carried a hint of an Elite accent.

Brainstorm shook his helm and realized he was staring.  He couldn’t help it, something about this mech just looked so familiar.  “No, nothing!  Sorry, I just… have we met before?” he finally asked, pushing himself to his pedes.  He reached down to help the smaller scientist to his as well.

The other mech accepted the help, placing his servos in Brainstorm’s.  He allowed the teal and white scientist to pull him to his pedes.  “I don’t believe so,” he replied in confusion.  “My name is Quark.”

“I’m Brainstorm,” the new student introduced himself.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Quark smiled.  He then looked down.  “Oh, dear.  I swear carrier is going to offline me for how often I drop these notes…” he muttered, kneeling down and gathering up the datapads now littering the floor.  “I really must watch where I’m going.”

“Sounds like your carrier’s pretty hard on you,” Brainstorm said, bending down to help.  “Put a lot of pressure on you?”  He looked at the notes curiously, noting their headers.  _Quantum Energy for Space Travel_ , _Theoretical Applications of Astrophysics_ , _Black Holes and Slingshot Travel_.  “Holy Primus… I mean, these are… this is some extremely advanced theoretical science.  Is astrophysics your specialty?”

“Yes,” Quark answered lightly, though he didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it.  “Carrier expects me to solve the problems surrounding the long-term functionality of most of our current spaceships.  He’s hoping I can make spacebridge travel a secondary method within the next few millennia.”

“That’s a lot of pressure for someone who hasn’t even graduated the Institute yet,” Brainstorm couldn’t help but point out.  “And you don’t seem like you’re very into yourself.”

Quark flinched a bit as if the other scientist had said something hurtful.  “If you’ll excuse me, Brainstorm.  It was nice to meet you, but I must be going…” he hurried off in the direction he had been before running into the new student.

Brainstorm watched him go, raising an optic ridge.  Well, that was strange.  He walked over to the reception counter, where the mech who had previously been doing three things at once was now staring at him.  “Uh… hi?” the teal and white scientist greeted.  “I’m Brainstorm. I’m here to pick up my orientation materials?”

The receptionist shook his helm after a moment and then nodded it.  “Right, orientation.  You start today,” he said quickly, pulling a drawer open and from it a small box.  “Here’s all of the datapads you need.  It has all of the information you’re going to need to find your classes and workshops.  The passkey to your onsite habsuite is also in there, along with some information on how to order anything you might need to be comfortable there.  There’s a datachip containing the layout of the Institute as well.  If you have any further questions, the frequency for our campus Student Resources office is on the back of the datapad on the top.”

Brainstorm nodded and picked it up.  “Thanks.”  After a moment he nodded in the direction Quark had gone.  “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know…?”  After a moment he shook his helm.  “You know what?  Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“You don’t know, do you?” the receptionist said in surprise.

“Know… what?” Brainstorm stared at him in confusion.

“Who Quark’s carrier is?” the other mech said.  When he received a further blank look in response, he leaned forward.  “Quark is Perceptor’s youngling.”

Brainstorm’s entire processor seemed to stall at that information.  Finally, he managed, “He’s the Minister of Science’s kid?!”


	2. Flow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brainstorm and Quark sit down to have a chat, with an unexpected server at the bar.

It didn’t take more than a few decacycles for Brainstorm to get settled into the Institute of Science.  The flow of things was the easy part, even though he came in halfway through the current term.  “I have faith that you will be able to catch up,” Perceptor had told him.  And catch up he did.  Brainstorm poured over all of the materials in his classes that he’d missed so far, grateful that they hadn’t started putting together actual theses yet.  No, apparently Quark had simply gotten ahead on that one.

As the instructor at the front, a small femme named Skydisk, spoke at length about energy quantization (something which Brainstorm was already intimately familiar with), Brainstorm thought on the microscope.  No, not just a microscope.  Quark was an electron microscope, which was… he didn’t want to admit it was so much cooler than it had a right to be, but it was.  He shared two classes with the scrawny scientist, one of which being this one.  In fact, Quark sat in the second row on the far right, just a little ahead of Brainstorm.  The smaller scientist was taking notes while listening intently, a look of intense concentration on his faceplate.  It didn’t look like he was having a hard time understanding.  Rather, he seemed like he was considering a million possibilities at once.  Brainstorm knew the feeling well.

As the white and blue scientist paused to think, chewing on the end of his stylus, he glanced behind himself.  Over the helms of at least four students, he managed to catch Brainstorm’s optics, freezing when he realized he was being watched.

Brainstorm raised a hand just high enough to wave at him.

Instead of acknowledging the gesture, Quark turned back around in his seat and resumed his notes.

The teal and white mech exvented and leaned on his elbow, looking at the ceiling.  Quark had been avoiding him since they first met on Brainstorm’s first solar there.  He wasn’t sure what he did to deserve the silent treatment, but he must’ve accidentally said something wrong.

“Alright, class,” Skydisk announced as their internal alarms all chimed that class was ending.  “I’ll see you in three solars.  By then I want you to have started your thesis for the term.”  Well, so much for getting to avoid that thesis.  “Remember, if you’re writing a thesis that is based on Quantum Theory, my office is open after hours to help.”

The students shuffled their datapads and shoved supplies into subspace, scrambling to get out of the classroom.  It was a break period for most of them next, including Brainstorm.  And he knew exactly where he wanted to go.  There was a micro-refinery in the city that he loved to relax in, settling down with his plans for the inventions he was going to blow Cybertron away with.

Not literally.

Mostly.

“Brainstorm.”

The teal and white scientist was halted by the sound of a familiar vocal.  He turned around and found Quark standing there, looking unsure.  He held four datapads, unlike the other students who had subspaced theirs.  “Oh, hey,” Brainstorm played it casually.  He didn’t want to alert the other student that he was painfully aware of the avoidance.  “What’s going on, Quark?”

The white and blue scientist paused as a couple of femmes ran out of the room, not paying them attention as they passed by.  “May I speak to you?” he asked quietly.

“Sure,” Brainstorm shrugged.  “You wanna come get some fuel with me?  I was just about to hit the Filtered Sludge.”

Quark made a bit of a face, but he vented.  “Very well.”

The reaction was expected.  Not a lot of students liked refueling at the Sludge.  It was frequented by the hard laborers in Crystal City.  Construction ‘bots and cleaners, mostly.  It took a lot of effort to keep the crystalline buildings of the city looking nice.  “Alright, I’ll meet you there.  I just gotta drop off some stuff at the dorm.”

“Yes, I’ll wait for you there,” Quark agreed.

 

\---

 

Brainstorm pulled up in front of the Sludge and transformed into his robot mode, walking into the micro-refinery.  It wasn’t packed yet, being as it was only mid-solar, so finding Quark wasn’t hard.  Then again, it wouldn’t’ve been in the first place.  Everyone in there was always labor-frames, large and bulky, made for heavy lifting.  Quark sat in the corner, looking like he would rather be anywhere else with his tiny, scrawny chassis.

Brainstorm walked over to the table, sliding in across from the uncomfortable scientist.  “So, your first time in here?” he grinned behind the mask he wore.

“This isn’t the kind of place I usually spend my time,” Quark said quietly as if saying it out loud would offend the regulars.  “Why would you choose to come here?  Curiosity?”

“Well…” Brainstorm was about to answer, but a server arrived.

“Hey, Brainstorm!” the black and white mech greeted.  He had red stripes down his chassis.  He was slender, a motorcycle altmode.  “Your usual?”

“Yeah, thanks, Bluestreak,” Brainstorm nodded.  He turned to a surprised Quark.  “What’ll you have?  They’ve got a full tap.  Not Maccadam’s level, but…”

“ _No one_ is Maccadam’s level,” Bluestreak scoffed.  “I wanna serve there, but it’s too close to Fort Max.  Too many Elite Guard go there, and I’d rather avoid any chance my creators are gonna find me.”

“How long are you planning to stay mad at them?” Brainstorm asked.  It’d been at least two decades since he stopped talking to his famous creators.

“When they decide to stop being assholes and let me live my life the way I want.”

Quark looked between them.  “‘Assholes’?” he questioned, obviously unfamiliar with the term.

“Earth term,” Bluestreak said casually, having explained this many times before.  “I was sparked on Earth.  My carrier’s one of Optimus Prime’s original team members from during the Stellar Cycle of Fragmentation.”

The white and blue scientist leaned forward, scrutinizing the young mech.  After a moment where he was likely going through his history files in his memory, he suddenly sat up.  “Prowl!” he exclaimed.  “You’re Prowl’s youngling!”

“Yep, that’s me,” the black and white mech grinned.  “Which, of course, makes Jazz my sire.  You’d think that’d mean I’d have a super-chill upbringing.  But… no.  Apparently being raised by two cyberninjas means you can’t escape the strict training.  Even if you have no intention of actually being one yourself.”

“Blue hitched the spacebridge to Cybertron during one of their personnel switches between Fort Max and Autobot City on Earth,” Brainstorm explained.

“I’m not going home until my creators get over themselves,” Bluestreak rolled his optics.  “Anyway, we’re not here to talk about me.  What’re you drinking?”

Quark seemed to snap out of a trance, replying, “Oh!  Do you have Mebian?”

“By the gallons, almost everyone here drinks off the tap instead,” Bluestreak laughed.  “Alright, one Ankmor, one Mebian, coming up.”

As soon as Bluestreak was gone, Quark looked back to Brainstorm.  “I can’t believe the youngling of one of Cybertron’s greatest heroes is working in a bar like this.”

“Can’t blame him,” Brainstorm shrugged.  “If my creators tried to make me do something I didn’t want to, I’d probably be steamed, too.”

Quark looked at the table at the words.  Finally, he asked, “Did you plan this?”

“What?” Brainstorm was surprised by the sudden accusation.  “What do you mean?”

“You know, don’t you?  It’s too convenient that you just happen to invite me to a bar where someone who doesn’t want to do what his creators ask of him works.”

Brainstorm stared blankly at Quark.  What was he talking about?  “You’re the one who wanted to talk to me, remember?” he asked incredulously.

There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other.  After another few kliks, Quark’s determined look melted to realization.  “You’re… being serious?” he said in surprise.

“Look, I don’t know what kind of evil genius manipulator you think I am.  I mean, I’m actually really flattered that you think I can plan something this short notice.  But… to be completely honest, I have _no_ idea what you’re talking about,” Brainstorm laid it down.

Quark stared at him a moment, then looked at the table in embarrassment.  “My apologies,” he muttered.  “I suppose I’m simply paranoid.  I can’t help it. I keep noticing you watching me.  And you keep trying to… I don’t know… talk to me.  And I can’t figure out why.  What’s your game?”

“Game?” Brainstorm tilted his helm.  “I’ve just been trying to be nice.  I mean, you’re always alone, and I feel like you’re not enjoying yourself like the rest of us.”

The smaller scientist gave him that look again, the same one he did when Brainstorm first met him.  Like he just slapped Quark in the face, but with words.  “You are brutally honest,” Quark said so lightly he almost wasn’t heard over the sounds of the other patrons.  “Do you think about what you say before you do?” he asked quietly.

“Not most of the time?” Brainstorm said honestly.  “I just say whatever’s in my head a lot of the time.  Like right now, I’m wondering why you wanted to talk to me.  You still haven’t said.”

Quark seemed to hesitate, but he was saved from having to answer immediately by Bluestreak returning with their drinks.  “Alright, I’ve got an Ankmor for the mad genius,” he announced, putting it down in front of Brainstorm.  “And a Mebian for the Minister’s kid.”

As the drink was placed before him, Quark looked at him in surprise.  “How did you…?” he began asking.  “I mean, I’m used to my fellow science bots knowing, but…”

“You look just like him,” Bluestreak winked, leaning on the table with one hand, the tray tucked under his other arm.  “I mean, other than the colors.  You get most of that from your sire.  My carrier’s one of the most famous mechs on Cybertron, even if he’d prefer not to be.  I’ve met a good chunk of the most famous people here.  Perceptor’s cool.  Weird, but cool.  Must be a lot of pressure to be his kid.”

Quark vented, nodding.  “I suppose if anyone would know what it feels like to have high expectations because of their creators it’d be you.”

“Tell me about it,” Bluestreak rolled his optics.  “Everyone’s always like, ‘You must be so lucky!  Your creators are already famous cyberninjas, you’re already set for your lifecycle!  Most people don’t know what they’re going to do with theirs from sparkbirth!’  But, like I already said I don’t wanna study martial arts.  I just want to be… I dunno, I wanna be me.  I’m only 340 stellars old.  I’ve still got millions of stellars left of my lifecycle if I’m lucky.  Why do I have to decide what I want to do with it right now?”

Quark nodded sympathetically.  He then gestured to one of the seats.  “Would you like to join us?” he offered.

Bluestreak looked at him in surprise but then smiled.  He shook his helm.  “No, thanks.  I’ve gotta keep working.  If the boss sees me slacking over here, I’m gonna hear it from him.”  He waved to them and moved over to the other tables to make sure they were taken care of.

“Must be hard to be the youngling of famous people,” Brainstorm said as he removed his mask and took a drink of his fuel.

Quark ran a servo around the rim of his cube, silent for a moment.  Finally, he asked, “Do you know what your thesis is going to be about?”

Brainstorm was taken aback.  He didn’t expect that.  “I’ve been thinking on it.  I don’t want to do something too easy, even though I’ve only been here a few decas.  I want to prove that I can keep up even while I’ve missed half of this term’s curriculum.  I mean, I already knew most of it anyway.  I’ve been studying particle physics and quantum theory since I can remember.  I’m thinking of using quantum entanglement to prove multiversal theory.”

“Oh, my,” Quark reset his optics, hand going to his chestplate.  “That’s… incredible.  Do you think you can do it?”

“Well, that’s the point of a thesis, right?” Brainstorm asked.  “To at least try.  And even if I can’t, I’ll just keep trying until something makes sense.”

Quark stared at him a moment longer before a chuckle escaped his vocals.  “I never thought I’d meet someone who tried to tackle multiversal theory on his first term,” he laughed.  “My carrier hasn’t even been able to fully prove that.  Though, admittedly, he’s been much more distracted by other projects.”

“I’ve noticed,” Brainstorm chuckled.  “Kind of a fight to keep his attention, isn’t it?”  The Minister was almost always on a datapad going over or taking notes when Brainstorm met with him.  He seemed to be a master of doing twenty things at once.

Quark’s laughing trailed off, tilting his helm to the side.  “You’ve met my carrier?”

“Well, yeah,” Brainstorm said, scratching the back of his helm.  “He was the one who recommended me to the Institute.  He showed up at my place and told my creators that word about my crazy experiments reached the Ministry of Science.  He sat down and talked to me and looked at the stuff I’d been building, which admittedly I didn’t think he’d be too impressed with.  Most of it was just thrown together from whatever I could find.  It was especially embarrassing when he asked me where my notes were and I had to admit I don’t take a lot of them while inventing.  He told me that my work was extremely impressive for someone my age, and if I wanted a chance to get into the Institute, he’d make sure of it.  All I had to do was promise to start taking notes and send him a progress report every once in a while.”

Quark stared at him for a moment, looking crestfallen the more he talked.  After a moment he said, “I see…”  He quickly drank the rest of his Mebian, placing the cube down and standing up.  “If you’ll excuse me, there’s much I wanted to take care of this free period.”

“Wait, what-?”  Before Brainstorm could finish pointing out that he still didn’t know what he wanted to talk about, Quark was through the door and gone.  He stood a moment then sat back down, thinking over what he said.  What could he have said _this_ time?

“Wow, that was fast,” Bluestreak seemed to materialize next to him and leaned on the back of his seat.  “That may’ve been the quickest retreat I’ve ever seen someone do.  What’d you say to him?”

“I… don’t know,” Brainstorm admitted, shrugging.  He took another drink of his Engex.  “Not the first time he’s run off while talking to me, though.”

“Too bad,” the black and white mech tsk’d, pushing off and picking up the empty cube the scientist had left behind.  When Brainstorm looked at him questioningly, he winked.  “Can’t say you haven’t noticed, mad genius.”

“Noticed what?” Brainstorm asked, confused.

“He’s kinda cute.”


	3. Dissolve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brainstorm has an extremely enlightening conversation with a very overcharged Quark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some lime-flavored content. It's brief, but it's there.

Another two decacycles passed after Brainstorm and Quark’s drink they shared, the white and blue microscope returning to ignoring him.  Brainstorm didn’t know what was going on but decided he had better things to worry about.  He tried to make friends with the Minister’s youngling, but if he was going to be walked out on for his troubles, it wasn’t worth it.

Besides, they had theses to write and a running clock on it.  Brainstorm’s idea to use quantum entanglement to tackle multiversal theory was definitely turning out to be a major challenge.  He could apply and demonstrate the equations and variations just fine, that wasn’t the problem.  _That_ came from the fact that he had no proof that this was in any way, shape, or form connected to the multiverse.

“Maybe our predecessors were right.”  The comment came from Nautica, one of the friends Brainstorm managed to make so far.  She specialized in quantum mechanics, so he asked her to help with his thesis.  The purple femme with her gold detailing was sitting on the berth of his dorm room, reading over one of the twenty-four datapads he’d accumulated in notes for this thesis.  “Maybe the multiverse really is a myth.”

“It’s not, and I know it,” Brainstorm insisted, clearing the holoscreen he was working with for what had to be the four thousandth time.  “The multiverse exists.  Limitless alternate realities.  Every possible outcome of every decision we could’ve ever made.  Every consequence playing out somewhere.”

Nautica looked up from the datapad, raising an optic ridge at him.  “As a student of quantum theory and all of its intricacies, I appreciate your enthusiasm, Brainstorm.  But why are you so… insistent on this?  It sounds like more than just idle experimentation.”

Brainstorm hesitated, scratching the back of his helm.  “I’d like to tell you.  But… you’ll laugh.”

“I won’t, promise!” the purple femme insisted, crossing her servos over her spark.  “On my spark, and the sparks of my creators.”

“Whoa, I don’t wanna be responsible for your creators getting cursed,” Brainstorm laughed.  “They seem like nice femmes.”

“They are,” Nautica grinned.  “That’s why I’m not afraid to swear on them.  Now come on, spill.”

Brainstorm paused a moment before giving in.  “Fine, the truth is…”  Before he could get any further, though, the teal and white scientist’s comm went off.  “Frag, it’s Bluestreak’s frequency.  I have to take this.”

“You so timed that,” Nautica huffed, sitting back on the berth.

Brainstorm ignored her and answered his comm.  “Hey, Blue, what’s up?” he asked.

“Oh, thank Primus,” Bluestreak’s vocals came through to him.  “I didn’t know who else to call, and I’ve got a major problem on my servos.  It’s your friend, Quark.”

That got Brainstorm’s attention, causing him to sit up straighter.  “Quark?  What’s wrong?” he asked quickly.  Even though he hadn’t talked to him in decas, it didn’t mean he didn’t care.

“He’s… he’s a mess.  He came into the Sludge and started overcharging like crazy.  The patrons are worried he’s going to give himself Engex poisoning at this point.  We’ve cut him off, but we don’t know what to do with him.”

The scientist exvented, walking towards the door.  “Just hold him there, I’ll come to get him and take him home.  I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t want him doing something stupid.”  He disconnected, turning to Nautica, who was watching him curiously.  “There’s… something I have to do.  I might need my dorm room for it.  Thanks for the help with my thesis, though.”

“No problem, I understand,” Nautica replied cryptically, pushing herself off the berth.  “I still need to start mine, I’m so behind.  Still don’t know what I want to do it on.  But we’ve got three orbitals before we need to be done, so I have plenty of time.”

“Alright, I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” Brainstorm held up a fist.

“You bet you will,” the aspiring quantum mechanic winked, bumping it with her own.

Brainstorm drove quickly to the Filtered Sludge and transformed, running in without breaking momentum.  Bluestreak was waiting for him just inside, looking worried.  “He’s in the corner, where you guys were sitting last time,” the server said lightly, leading him over.  “If I knew he’d get like this, I would’ve cut him off two drinks earlier.”

The scientist didn’t need to ask what he meant, as like before Quark stood out in the room of bulky workers.  A few of them were sitting nearby, watching him warily.  The microscope had his helm in his arms, one of them extended just enough to poke idly at the empty cube still in front of him.  He was staring at it as if he could telepathically fill it.  He looked both lethargic and miserable, faceplate flushed with overcharge.

“Primus, Quark,” Brainstorm exvented as he approached, kneeling next to the other scientist’s chair.  “What’s this all about?”

“It’s your fault…” Quark muttered, not even looking at him.  He just continued to glare at the glass.  After a moment, he corrected himself.  “No, that’s wrong.  I’m wrong.  I’m always wrong.  It’s my fault.  No… no, it’s carrier’s fault.  Or is it sire’s?  I dunno, it’s someone’s…”

Brainstorm looked at Bluestreak, who shrugged helplessly.  “I’m used to overcharged ‘bots who get rowdy and need to be escorted out.  Or ones who’re here with friends that can watch them if they get weepy or overly affectionate.  I don’t know what to do with someone who’s alone and… well…”

“I’ll take care of this, don’t worry,” Brainstorm said.  Bluestreak nodded and left him to it, looking grateful.  “Alright, Quark, it’s time for you to get back to your dorm.  You need to recharge this out.”

“Noooo…” Quark whined though he didn’t offer any resistance to being pulled out of his seat.  Brainstorm pulled one of the smaller scientist’s arms around his neck and shoulders and adjusted him so they were more comfortable, making sure Quark’s pedes were actually on the ground.  He didn’t want to carry him but knew the overcharged microscope wouldn’t be moving by any of his own power.

“Yes, you’re in no state to stay here,” Brainstorm replied gently, walking him to the door.  He paused by Bluestreak, who was serving a couple of construction femmes.  “Hey, throw whatever he drank on my tab, will you?”

“Sure thing, Brainstorm.  Make sure he’s okay,” the black and white server replied, looking concerned.  “He had a rather… loud… argument with his sire over his comm while he was in here.  It was _really_ uncomfortable to listen to.”

“Got it,” Brainstorm nodded, continuing out the door.  It was going to take some effort to get them to the dorms like this, but he was determined.

By the time they got to the Institute of Science’s dormitory, Brainstorm was outright carrying Quark.  It occurred to him that he didn’t know where the smaller scientist’s room was, so he took him to his own.  Opening the door while carrying an overcharged mech was a challenge on its own, but he managed and finally made his way over to the berth.  He swiped the datapads with his notes onto the floor with a pede, which took balance he didn’t know he had.  When it was cleared, he gently placed the recharging scientist on his berth and looked around.  No need for Quark to wake up to a pit of a room.  So he got to work picking up the datapads and putting them on his shelf, organizing them by date.  Nautica had gotten on his case about that and insisted.  It was habit by now.

When he was passing by the berth to organize his desk a bit, Brainstorm nearly jumped out of his chassis when a hand grabbed his arm.  He turned and saw Quark watching him through unfocused optics, tugging his arm towards the berth.  “Don’t do that…” he whined.

“Don’t do what?” Brainstorm asked, confused.  Still, he let Quark pull him until he sat on the edge of the berth.

“Ignore me,” the smaller scientist answered, looking embarrassed even as overcharged as he was.  “I don’t… I don’t like it…”

“I’m not ignoring you,” Brainstorm assured him, patting the hand still on his arm.  “I thought you were recharging.”

“Was I?” Quark asked, faceplate scrunching in concentration.  “I might’ve been.  But I’m not now, so don’t ignore me.  Everyone… everyone ignores me…”

Brainstorm turned himself to face Quark, feeling a pang of sympathy at the words.  Engex was the root of honesty, as the saying went.  He felt like he should stop Quark from saying anything he would regret, but as withdrawn as the microscope usually was this might’ve been the only chance to find out why he’d been behaving so strangely since they met.  “I’d never ignore you,” he said.

“Liar,” Quark accused, glaring at him.  Despite the bitter word, his other hand came up and joined the first, gripping Brainstorm’s arm tighter.  “You’ve been ignoring me for the last two decacycles.  You haven’t been watching me anymore.  Haven’t even tried to talk to me.”

“Me?” Brainstorm shot back.  “You’ve been avoiding me!”

Quark tried to find a way to argue it, but his overcharged state didn’t allow his CPU to think quickly enough.  “It’s a double-edged sword, isn’t it?” he asked.  “I avoid people because I don’t want them to start ignoring me.  But because of it, they ignore me anyway…”

“What were you arguing with your sire about?” Brainstorm braved.  He had a feeling whatever was going on right now had more to do with that than what was happening at school.

Quark was caught off-guard by the question, trying to look indignant, but melting into a look of defeat.  “My sire is…”  He searched for a word in his Engex-addled processor, but finally settled on, “He’s an asshole.”

Brainstorm couldn’t help but laugh at the use of Bluestreak’s Earth word.  “Your sire’s the former Magnus, isn’t he?” he asked.

“Yes,” Quark confirmed, using Brainstorm’s arm as leverage to sit up.  He leaned against the head of the berth, not letting go.  He tugged on the arm again.  “Sit next to me,” he requested.

Brainstorm complied, turning and leaning back next to him.  He was surprised when Quark lifted his arm and pushed himself against his side.  “You still haven’t told me what you were arguing about.”

Quark was silent for a moment, resting his helm on Brainstorm’s chestplate.  He finally said, “Sire is rarely on Cybertron anymore.  He’s always running off to do negotiations with other planets.”

“He’s Cybertron’s Ambassador,” Brainstorm pointed out.  “It’s kind of his job.”

“I know that,” Quark replied testily.  Like when he got angry before, instead of pushing away, he pushed himself tighter against Brainstorm’s chassis.  “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.  When I was a sparkling, he was home.  I don’t remember much about it, as most of us don’t, but when I think about it hard enough, I remember him holding me.  Playing with me.  They were so excited.  Sire called me his little miracle, and carrier always pointed out that he didn’t believe in miracles.  There was no scientific basis for such things.”

“That sounds like Perceptor,” Brainstorm chuckled.

“I wasn’t supposed to be born, though,” Quark continued.  “Carrier told me after I grew out of my younglinghood that ‘bots as old as they weren’t supposed to be able to create sparklings.”

Brainstorm thought about that.  They _were_ both pretty old.  Ultra Dion, the former Magnus, was one of the oldest Cybertronians still online.  Not as old as Alpha Trion, who everyone joked still functioned on the lunar terrors of corrupt bureaucrats.  But old none-the-less.  Both Perceptor and Ultra Dion had been online during the start of the Great War.

“When I became a youngling, sire decided he was repaired enough from his encounter with the Decepticon spy.  He didn’t want to sit around and do nothing, even though he already passed the Magnus Hammer down.  So he appealed to the Council to become Ambassador.  At first, it was short trips, and he had plenty of time to spend with us.  But then they started getting longer, and more numerous.  And I was left with a carrier who…”  Quark trailed off and squeezed tighter.

“You don’t get along with Perceptor very well, do you?” Brainstorm guessed.

“There are times I want to believe the rumors that he deleted his emotions.  He was never very affectionate towards me, but… when I started becoming older and showing an interest in science, I thought it would bring us closer together.  But all it’s done is drive us further apart.”  The microscope paused a moment, likely trying to decide where he was going with this.  “I never wanted to study quantum theory and astrophysics.”

Brainstorm wanted to be surprised, but he had guessed that from the moment they met.  “Why do you do it, then?” he asked.

“Because it’s what my carrier wants me to study,” Quark said quietly.  “I don’t enjoy it, but I’m very good at it.  And whenever I made an achievement… I felt like the little bit of praise I received for it every time was the closest I’ve ever gotten to him saying he… he…”  He trailed off, his vents catching.

Brainstorm could guess what he was going to say, and that was honestly sparkbreaking.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s not your fault.  I’ve been avoiding you because it makes me… I don’t know… it made me sad and angry and jealous when you said carrier praised your work when you weren’t even expecting it.  I’ve worked my entire lifecycle for him to tell me he’s proud of me, and here you are.  Some stranger I happened to run into, who in the three times we’ve spent time together has been nothing but nice to me.  Who’s paid more attention to me in an orbital and a half than my creators have in three centuries of my lifecycle.”

Brainstorm listened, not knowing what to say.  He hadn’t expected as much information as he was getting, but it was obvious that decades of neglect and starvation of affection made Quark more than forthcoming to the first person who showed him the attention he craved.

When he was completely overcharged, anyway.  They’d see when he was sober.

“Why are you so nice to me, Brainstorm?” Quark suddenly asked.

The grounder looked at him, not knowing how to answer.  What kind of answer could he give?  He was just trying to be friendly, which was something that was easy for him.

When no answer came, Quark reached up and put a hand on the mask Brainstorm wore.  “Take your mask off?  You did while we were drinking, and I liked it.”

Brainstorm felt compelled to comply with the strange request, pulling his mask off and setting it to the side.  Most people had masks that retracted into their helm, but he opted for one that simply attached manually.  He couldn’t say why it simply felt more right to him.  “Like that?” he asked.

“Just like that…” Quark smiled, and this one was odd.  Brainstorm couldn’t place what kind it was until Quark managed to push himself up, his lips impacting with the larger scientist’s.

Brainstorm made a surprised sound, putting a hand on the berth to steady them from falling over, and the other grabbing for Quark so he could steady him as well before he overbalanced.  Unfortunately, the place his hand ended up was on Quark’s aft.  “Ah!  Sorry, sorry, that’s not… I mean, that was an acci-”  Brainstorm’s apology was cut off as Quark kissed him again.

And again.

And again.  This one deeper.  Brainstorm found himself without a compulsion to remove his hand from where it rested, bringing his other hand up and curling it around the back of Quark’s helm.  He slid his glossa into Quark’s open and more than willing mouth, tangling with the one inside.  Oral lubricant ran down their faceplates, but neither cared.

Quark moaned as Brainstorm pushed them over, laying on top of the quickly heating white and blue scientist as his servos traveled from his aft to his interface array.

It was when he heard the distinct click of Quark’s valve panel open that Brainstorm realized what he was doing.  “Whoa, no!” he yelped, pushing himself off and away from the smaller scientist.  He put a hand up between them so he could avoid seeing more of Quark than he had any right to right now.

“Brainstorm?” Quark asked, sounding hurt and confused.  “What’s wrong?”

“This is _beyond_ wrong,” Brainstorm said, keeping his hand between them to eliminate the temptation.  “You’re overcharged out of your mind, I can’t frag you!”

“But-”

“No buts!” Brainstorm snapped.  He stood up and made his way over to the wash rack.

When the door closed behind him, Brainstorm walked over to the sink and leaned on the counter, covering his faceplate with his hands.

Oh, frag, that wasn’t good.  That was _beyond_ not good.

When Quark started kissing him, all Brainstorm could think of was Bluestreak telling him how cute the smaller scientist was.  And he was right; Quark was extremely appealing in a lot of ways he probably didn’t realize.  He suddenly wanted to know what it would feel like to get physically intimate with the other scientist.  His deep blue optics hidden behind that tiny, stylized visor.  His thin chassis.

Frag, this wasn’t good at _all._

Brainstorm almost fragged a blitzed mech.

The former Magnus and Minister of Science were both going to have him offlined.


	4. Force

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quark wakes up with a hangover in Brainstorm's room after a long night of mistakes. While suspicious at first, he finds himself more comfortable with Brainstorm than he's ever been with anyone. One thing leads to another...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter from Quark's third-person POV. *throws confetti* I really like writing his perspective.
> 
> Also, more lime-flavored content. The romance wasn't supposed to move this fast, but hopefully still buffered it enough that it doesn't feel like I'm rushing through it.

Quark groaned as he came back online.  His CPU was pulsing with excess energy, the hydraulics in his joints were stiff and sore, his optical sensors felt sensitive to the artificial light of the dorm room.  He recognized the pattern of how the lights were arranged on the ceiling.

Wait, when did he get back to his dorm room?  He last remembered being at the micro-refinery, drowning his sorrows after a particularly bad argument with his carrier.  He vaguely remembered… did he call his sire while he was overcharged?  Oh, no… his sire and carrier were going to _kill_ him.  He wasn’t supposed to be drinking at all, let alone getting that wasted.

As his optics slowly came online, he looked around.

Wait.  This wasn’t his dorm room.  The layout of them all was nearly the same, but his was covered in piles of datapads.  This one was mostly cleaned up, with devices he didn’t recognize holding up the datapads on the shelves.

The next thing he realized was that he was very cold in a very… embarrassing place.  He looked down and realized his valve panel was open.  “Primus!” he yelped, covering himself despite being alone in the room.  He quickly snapped his panel closed and concentrated on his diagnostics programs.  They came back negative for any damage he could have sustained to his valve array, including his seal still being intact.  That was a relief, but it didn’t mean that whoever took him home didn’t… take advantage of him in some way.

Quark felt fury rise up inside of him.  He knew he shouldn’t’ve gone to that seedy looking bar Brainstorm had taken him to before.  But none of the other scientists went there, and Bluestreak was nice to him.  He didn’t want anyone he knew to see him like that.  Apparently, someone _had_ gone there, though, and they took him home and… who knew what they did to him?

The microscope had every intention of finding out.

The washroom door opened, and Brainstorm walked into the room not looking at the berth.  He rubbed his back and neck, looking as stiff and sore as Quark felt.

No.  No, no, no.  Not him.  Not Brainstorm.

Quark didn’t want to believe the teal and white student was capable of taking advantage of someone like that.  But the evidence was overwhelming.  He was in Brainstorm’s room, his panel was exposed, Brainstorm just left the washroom after having no doubt washed away the evidence.  He felt the rage boil inside of him, kicking himself off of the berth and storming over to him.

“How _dare_ you?!” Quark all but shrieked at the startled grounder.

Brainstorm stared at him in shock and confusion, backing back into the washroom quickly.  Quark followed close behind, however.  “How dare I what?” he yelped.

“Don’t you play stupid with me!” the white and blue scientist demanded, poking the other student in the chestplate when he backed him into the wall with nowhere else to go.  “Just because you got rid of the evidence of what you did in the wash rack, that doesn’t mean…”  He trailed off as he looked to said rack.  It was completely dry.  In fact, so was Brainstorm.  There was no indication whatsoever that it’d been used that solar.

“Whoa, whoa,” Brainstorm said soothingly, holding his hands in front of him in defense.  “I didn’t do _anything_.  I mean, we _almost_ did, but…”  When Quark looked back at him sharply, the aspiring quantum scientist quickly added, “I stopped us before we actually did anything!  You were so blitzed you were trying, I mean you were _really_ trying to get me to.  But I’m not about to frag someone when they’re completely overcharged, it’d be wrong!  But you fell into recharge before you closed up your… you know…”  He reset his vocals awkwardly.  “So I recharged in the washroom so I wouldn’t accidentally see your… I mean…”  He trailed off, rubbing the back of his helm.

Quark’s spark sank at the words, embarrassed at both his implied behavior the previous lunar cycle and that he jumped to conclusions so quickly.  At the same time, though, he felt relief that Brainstorm _hadn’t_ tried to take advantage of him.  “No wonder you look so stiff,” he said lightly, looking away.  “This couldn’t have been comfortable.”

“It wasn’t,” Brainstorm laughed.  “But it wasn’t any less comfortable than… well… how you probably felt.”

“Indeed,” Quark returned a chuckle, but it was more forced.  “Still… I’m sorry for… for jumping to conclusions like that.  It was unseemly of me.”

“It’s fine.  I probably would’ve done the same if I woke up feeling how you probably just did.”

Quark still didn’t feel right, so he reached out and grabbed Brainstorm by the hand.  “Come with me,” he instructed.  He pulled a curious Brainstorm out of the washroom and to the berth, sitting him on the edge of it.  He then moved to sit on it behind him, placing his servos on Brainstorm’s shoulders and digging his foreservo and thumb into the cabling at the base of Brainstorm’s neck.  The other scientist vented in sharply, straightening in surprise, but then relaxed as he did it a few more times.  “My carrier and sire used to do this to each other all the time after they had stressful solars at work,” he explained.

“I feel like I should be doing this for you, then,” Brainstorm chuckled, though the sound turned into a moan at the feeling.  “You were so overcharged last lunar that you have to be having a Pit of a hangover now.”

“I am, but right now I want to do this to apologize for the grief I just caused you.  I woke up confused and sore and… and convinced that someone had done something terrible to me.  Even though my diagnostics said otherwise, I was ready to take it out on whoever this room belonged to.”

“It’s alright,” Brainstorm assured him.  After a moment, as Quark’s hands moved outwards across his shoulderplates and down to his back, he said, “I’m trying to decide what would make you madder right now.  Telling you how much you said to me while you were blitzed, or pretending you’re not the type who divulges every secret you have while you’re completely overcharged.”

Quark froze.  Oh, no.

“On the upside, you’re weirdly lucid and coherent while smashed.”

_Oh, no._

Quark’s hands stopped as his CPU seemed to malfunction into a blank state of shock.  “What… what did I say…?” he asked, even as every thought that finally surfaced screamed at him that he didn’t want to know.

“Just a lot about your carrier and sire and what it was like growing up with them, honestly,” Brainstorm answered awkwardly.  “I’m really sorry you grew up like that, by the way.”

Quark groaned and leaned forward, placing his forehelm on Brainstorm’s shoulder.  “Anything else?” he persisted.

“You did bring up that you didn’t want to study quantum theory and astrophysics.  That you do it because it’s what Perceptor wants.”

Quark lifted his helm and exvented, continuing his ministrations.  “That’s correct,” he confirmed.  “I suppose I told you he wanted me to study it because I’m good at it, too.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that.”

“I’m only good at it because it’s what my carrier was working on when I was old enough to spend time in his lab,” Quark said, running his thumbs up Brainstorm’s backstrut.  He felt Brainstorm arch into the touch and smiled a bit.  “Wheeljack and carrier were working on a way to improve the Steelhaven for whoever was to become Magnus at the time.  It was while sire and the council were still in considerations for it.  I just picked up on it at an age where I was absorbing any information I thought my carrier would appreciate.  I don’t _dislike_ the subjects.  It’s just… if I had a choice, it’s not what I’d want to do with my lifecycle.”

“Why don’t you have a choice?” Brainstorm asked.

Quark vented slowly, knowing Brainstorm simply… didn’t understand.  “You gained my carrier’s approval without even trying.  According to you, he just turned up at your home and immediately started appreciating everything you’ve been doing.  I’ve been studying the field of science that he wants me to, putting everything I have into it, and he barely gives me notice.  It’s… not fair.”

“I’m sorry,” Brainstorm repeated.

Quark stopped his massaging again, simply resting his hands on his shoulders.  Brainstorm apologized a lot for something that wasn’t his fault at all.  It wasn’t an empty sentiment, either.  The teal and white scientist truly felt sympathy for his plight.  “Do you know why I keep my distance from the other students?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Brainstorm replied.  He sounded like he had considered the subject before, though.  “I assumed it was because you didn’t want them to distract you.  Or you thought they’d think you have an easy pass because of your carrier.”

Quark smiled, leaning forward and resting his helm fully on Brainstorm’s shoulder.  He didn’t know why he felt so comfortable being so close to Brainstorm.  Perhaps it was because no one else was willing to be this intimate with him.  “Something like that,” he confirmed.  “Most of it’s because I’m afraid they don’t really want to be my friend.  They’ll just want to use me to get close to my carrier.  But the funny thing is I don’t need to be afraid of that with you.  Carrier already likes you more than he does me.  So the thing I want to hate you for is the same thing that makes it so I’m not afraid to be friends with you.  I tried to stay away from you because you remind me of it, but I think it strangely… relieves me of the burden.”

“He doesn’t like me more,” Brainstorm argued, turning towards him.  Quark lifted his helm and waited for Brainstorm to turn fully around.  The teal and white scientist twirled his servos around in a circle.  “Your turn.”

Quark chuckled and complied, turning so his back was to the other student.  He felt Brainstorm’s servos start at his neck like Quark’s did when he was the one doing this.  The servos dug in and worked at the kinks, loosening tight cords.  Quark moaned gratefully, shuttering his optics.  “Do you know what I really want to study?” he asked, changing the subject.

“No, what?” Brainstorm asked, running his servos between the apertures on Quark’s upper back.

Quark vented in and leaned into the touch.  “Microbiology.  It’s a fascinating subject, and most Cybertronians are afraid to study it because of our lingering organophobia.  It’s gotten so much better since we established a colony on Earth, but it’s not enough.  I wish to join the Earthen branch of the Science Guild on Earth and study it there.”

“That’s fantastic,” Brainstorm’s vocals dipped as he leaned forward, working his servos into the crevices between each plate of Quark’s backstrut.  “If that’s what you want to do, you should.  Have you told Perceptor?”

“No,” Quark replied breathlessly as he felt Brainstorm’s lips brush against his neck.  He never even registered how quickly this was happening, simply leaning his helm to the side to allow the show of affection.  “How do I tell him the path he put me on is so… wrong…?”  He trailed off as Brainstorm’s hands wound around his waist and pulled him backward.  He felt his back press against the other scientist, not fighting as he was pulled into his lap.

What was he doing?  Quark woke up angry at the prospect that Brainstorm did this to him last lunar.  But he was overcharged then; it wouldn’t’ve been by his own volition.  No matter how enthusiastic he was over the prospect while smashed.  He was sober now.  If he wanted it now, it was okay.  It was good.

It was _great_.

Brainstorm had been tempted by him last lunar, even if he was too much of a gentlemech to go through with it.  This meant that he wanted this.  He wanted _Quark_.  The idea of it thrilled him.  He spent so much time worrying about whether or not anyone would honestly want to even be friends with him, he didn’t think of what he’d do if someone was physically _attracted_ to him.

He was thinking of it now, though.  He was very much thinking of it as one of Brainstorm’s hands reached between his legs and ghosted his servos up the inside of Quark’s thigh, drawing a sharp vent from him.  He was thinking of how much he wanted this as Brainstorm’s other hand tilted Quark’s faceplate towards his own, looking into his optics.

Wow, had Brainstorm’s optics always been that vividly blue?

“I don’t know why I’m doing this,” Brainstorm admitted in a low vocal.

“Don’t think of the ‘why,’” Quark replied, reaching back to put a hand on the back of Brainstorm’s helm.  “Instead, think ‘why not.’”

The larger scientist’s mouth curled into a grin as he closed the gap between them and kissed him, hips grinding upwards into his aft.  Quark felt his vents pick up, heating fans beginning to whir into action as the hand on his thigh traveled upwards and rubbed his interface array.  He vented in sharply again, concentrating on the feeling of Brainstorm’s lips against his, his hand massaging his array, and their chassis pressed together.

At that moment he didn’t care about how he got here and where they would go from there.  All he knew was that he wanted this.

The microscope opened his mouth and curled his glossa around Brainstorm’s, his free hand reaching down and covering the one working his panels.

_BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP_

Quark shoved himself off of Brainstorm, optics wide and faceplate flushing a brilliant shade as his personal comm suddenly started going off.  It broke the deep, interfacial tension they were feeling, leaving them staring at each other in the awkward remnants of lust.  The frequency flashing in the bottom of his HUD was his carrier’s.

Oh, frag.

Quark answered quickly.  “Hello?” he greeted, trying to keep his vocals low and normal.

“Quark, I have been informed by your sire that you called him last lunar after our conversation, with some choice words.  You were also apparently significantly overcharged.”  Perceptor skipped the formalities and cut straight to the issue.  This wasn’t unusual for the Minister of Science, who rarely liked to mince words.  “I am at a Council meeting this solar.  You will come to Metroplex and wait for me to be done.  Then you will join me as I return to the Ministry of Science.  We will discuss this behavior and the consequences there.”

Quark swallowed a lump in his throat, dreading this talk.  “Yes, carrier.”  He wasn’t going to question why he wasn’t going to be just meeting him at the Ministry.  Perceptor’s methods were his own, and questioning them usually led to a lecture that could last megacycles.

“Good.  I expect to see you in the Metroplex lobby when I am out of this meeting.”

Perceptor cut the comm before his youngling had a chance to reply.  Quark exvented and looked at the floor.  “I’m afraid I have to go,” he said quietly.  “My carrier wishes me to meet him to talk about what happened the last lunar.”

“Oh,” Brainstorm looked at the wall awkwardly, also avoiding optic contact.  That had been a… mortifying way to be interrupted during an intimate moment.  “Would you like me to go with you?” he suddenly offered.

Quark looked at him in surprise.  “But… you have class, don’t you?”

“Eh, I can skip one class,” Brainstorm waved him off.  “Besides, I haven’t been to Metroplex.  They can’t really blame me if it’s for a field study.”

“What in the world could count this as a field study?” Quark asked, actually laughing.

“Metroplex is a bazillion stellars old.  If there’s _anything_ that probably has a multiversal counterpart, that’d be it,” Brainstorm grinned, scooting towards the smaller scientist.  He reached out and put a hand on Quark’s faceplate and brought his down, so their forehelms rested against each other.  “Besides, I don’t know what… what we were just doing… makes us, but whatever it is, I wouldn’t be a very good one if I let you face your carrier alone.  For someone so scrawny, he’s fragging intimidating.”

Quark smiled, actually flattered by that.  He didn’t know what they were now, either.  They’d had four conversations now, and one of them was while he was plastered.

All he knew was whatever it was they were, he wanted to be more of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, we finally get to see some of the actual original cast-members. Also, more of their kids.


	5. Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brainstorm meets some important people at Metroplex, then witnesses an explosive meeting between Quark and Perceptor.

Metroplex was massive.  That was the first thought Brainstorm had as he approached it.

One of the things the scientist didn’t divulge to many people was that he was from a pretty rural area of Cybertron.  It wasn’t that he didn’t like Tesk.  He liked it just fine, it was his home.  He still had friends there.  But that didn’t mean he wanted everyone to know he was from such a small town.  He didn’t know why that was important, but it just felt like all the most important people were from big, important places.

Quark and Brainstorm sat together in the lobby, speaking quietly amongst themselves.  Quark was giving him a lecture on the history and architecture of the building, having practically grown up in there during his younglinghood.  Whenever one of the officials who worked there walked by, the science student introduced his companion to them if they weren’t busy.  If they were, then Quark would simply explain who they were to Brainstorm afterward.

“I still can’t believe you’re so… _casual_ about knowing so many people in the Guilds Domesticus,” Brainstorm pointed out as Glyph, the head of their Archaeometry Department, walked off after having chatted for a while.  “Most people would find being around this many important ‘bots intimidating.”

“I suppose I’ve simply never thought of it,” Quark admitted, taken a bit aback.  “I mean, I’ve known most of them my entire life.  I’ve grown up with the younglings of some of them.”

“I thought you didn’t have any friends,” Brainstorm accused playfully.

“Just because I grew up with them it doesn’t mean I consider them friends,” Quark chuckled, poking at his mask.  Brainstorm had put it back on before they’d left, always feeling more comfortable with it on.  “I consider most of them ‘acquaintances’ at best.  I do like some of them, but I never got close to them.”

“Hard to have friends when you’re too busy trying to conduct the miracle of impressing the smartest person on the planet?”

“Hmm, indeed,” Quark exvented.  “A few of them I sometimes regret not getting closer to.”

“You know, there’re some students at the school who really would like you just for being you,” Brainstorm pointed out.  “Remind me to introduce you to Nautica.  She just likes people.  I don’t think she even has the capacity to manipulate someone.”

Quark thought of it a moment.  “Oh, isn’t she the violet femme who sits in the front row of our Quantum Statistical Mechanics class?” he realized.  “She’s certainly very passionate.  Perhaps-”

“Well, well, well!  If it isn’t the head nerd’s slightly smaller nerd!”

Quark and Brainstorm turned to the interruption, seeing a red and gold mech with a gold visor and white mask covering his faceplate.  Even without being able to see his faceplate, it was obvious he was giving them a condescending smirk.  Even so, he had to have been younger than they were.  Near a couple centuries at best.  His upgrades were practically brand new in his adult frame, meaning he couldn’t have fully left his younglinghood too long ago.

“Ah, hello, Atomizer,” Quark said, not seeming bothered by the fact that he’d been insulted right in the middle of his carrier’s workplace.  “Are you meeting your carrier after the meeting as well?”

“Yeah, he’s taking me to Earth to see Sire and Discharge,” the red and gold mech said, walking over and leaning on the wall over the microscope’s seat.  “I don’t see you around anymore since you got accepted into the nerd school.”  He seemed to have a fixation with that word.

“Well, I _have_ been very busy.  Oh, Atomizer, this is Brainstorm.  Brainstorm, Atomizer,” Quark introduced.

“Nice to meet you,” Brainstorm said, giving a short wave.  He scrutinized the younger mech a little longer.  “I’m getting that feeling I had when I first met Quark.  You look familiar.  Whose youngling are you?”

Atomizer was actually surprised by that question, looking from him to Quark.  “He’s kidding, right?” he asked.  “He has to be.”

“I’m afraid not,” Quark chuckled.

Atomizer rolled his optics behind his visor, leaning forward and poking Brainstorm’s helm.  “For someone smart enough to be friends with Quark, you sure are dumb.  My creators are only the two most important people in the universe, stupid!”

Brainstorm stared at him a moment before the words registered.  “Wait, you mean you’re-?!”

Atomizer cut him off as if letting someone else say it was blasphemy.  “Rodimus Magnus and Optimus Prime’s youngling,” he said proudly.

If his mask wasn’t currently attached to it, Brainstorm’s jaw would’ve dropped.  He was sitting here casually chatting with the kid of both Cybertron’s Magnus and Autobot City’s High Commander.

“Atomizer is their eldest youngling,” Quark informed Brainstorm while he was still speechless.  “He has a sister, Discharge.  She actually _is_ still a youngling, though.  Only… fifty stellar cycles?” he asked Atomizer.

The red and gold mech shrugged.  “Fifty-three, but close enough.”  He turned back to Brainstorm.  “She stays on Earth with sire, while I’m waiting for my acceptance letter to Autobot Boot Camp here.”  After a moment, he muttered to himself, “Ugh, I just know Blue’s creators are going to corner me.  They ask me if I’ve seen him _every time_ I’m there.”

Brainstorm and Quark looked at each other then back at him.  “You… wouldn’t happen to be talking about Bluestreak, would you?” Quark asked carefully.  Brainstorm elbowed him lightly.  It was risky bringing it up when the black and white mech didn’t want to be found.

Atomizer looked at the two, the golden fins on his helm rising in surprise.  He finally retracted the mask and pushed his visor up, revealing a handsome faceplate and blue optics much wider than Brainstorm had been expecting.  “Wait, you guys’ve seen Blue?” he asked in a low vocal, kneeling in front of them, so they now had to look down at him.  He looked around to make sure no one was listening then back to them.  His faceplate was surprisingly serious.  “Where is he?  I won’t tell Jazz and Prowl, I promise.”

“He’s serving at a bar in Crystal City,” Quark whispered in reply.  “He desperately doesn’t want to be found.”

“Don’t blame him,” Atomizer rolled his optics, looking towards the divider behind the reception desk, where the hall to the Autobot High Council Chamber was.  “Frag, didn’t know he’d go all the way there.  Look, don’t worry about him and his creators.  I’ll take care of it.  I know someone with connections to Crystal City.”

“Thank you, Atomizer,” Quark smiled softly.  “I’ve only recently met Bluestreak, but he’s been extremely kind to me.”

“Yeah, he definitely gets his social skills from his sire,” Atomizer grinned.  “I can’t lie to his creators now that I know, though.  Prowl has this… freaky ninja thing he does where he can tell when people are lying.  It’s _not_ cool.  But I’ll just tell them that I haven’t _seen_ Blue.  That’s not a lie, so it’s okay.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it,” Brainstorm laughed.  Atomizer seemed like a brat at first, but he was turning out to be a really cool mech.

Atomizer stood back up and looked thoughtful for a moment.  “Does it bother either of you that Bluestreak isn’t actually blue…?” he asked suddenly.

Quark and Brainstorm looked at each other again.  Brainstorm hadn’t even thought about it before.  Apparently, neither had Quark, as they both started laughing.

Atomizer stayed in the lobby and kept them company.  They talked about the recent rumors that war between the Autobots and Decepticons may start again despite Megatron still being held in Trypticon Prison.

During his temporary tenure as Magnus, Sentinel had tried to have the tyrant executed, but that simply hadn’t sat right with anyone.  Prowl had been the loudest objector, pointing out that if Megatron was offline, then the Decepticons would likely rise in retaliation.  It had been surprising for someone who was so uninvolved in the war to be so intuitive of what the Decepticons would do.  No one questioned him, though, since his spark was now connected to the All-Spark.  He didn’t like thinking of himself as being some holy figure like people were touting, but he couldn’t really stop people from thinking about it.

War always seemed to be on the horizon, though, and the threat of it seemed to become background noise.  The more talked about part was the Decepticons who trickled over to Autobot territory, afraid they wouldn’t win if the war _did_ break out again.  They had to agree to be reformatted and join some form of discipline where they could be monitored and trained.  They weren’t allowed to join the Autobot Army until they proved they were trustworthy and it wasn’t some Decepticon ploy.  Until they decided what they wished to do, they’d be incarcerated at one of Cybertron’s smaller prisons.  There were successes so far, mostly thanks to Drift.  As the first Decepticon to get reformatted five centuries previous, he was given the job to help them through it.

As they were talking, a small stream of ‘bots started coming out of the Council Chamber.  The Officials mostly turned down the halls to go to their respective offices.  A few of them walked to the door, though, nodding at the trio of young mechs.

“Atomizer!”

The three mechs turned at the call, seeing a red and orange mech walking up.  His self-assured grin mirrored the one his youngling was wearing.

“Carrier!” Atomizer greeted, running over and hugging him.

“Whoa!  Watch the Hammer, kiddo!” Rodimus laughed, embracing his youngling and holding the Magnus Hammer to the side, so he didn’t accidentally knock him with it.

“Are we going to Earth right now?” Atomizer asked excitedly.

“Absolutely,” Rodimus assured him.  He looked over to the bench, and his smile widened.  “Well, hey, Quark!  Been a while!”

“Very much so,” the young scientist replied, smiling in return.  “How was the meeting?”

Rodimus looked around before stage-whispering, “Boring as the pit, but don’t let the officials hear me say that.”

“We already did,” Alpha Trion said in amusement as he passed by Rodimus.  “Thank you for your audials being open to my suggestions, though.  I have business to conduct in Alkaline, but I will be back in time for our meeting tomorrow.”

“Got it, Alpha Trion,” Rodimus gave him a short salute.  “And don’t worry, we’ve got things under control.”

“I trust you do, Rodimus Magnus,” the elderly mech nodded to him.  “Good solar.  And good solar to you, Quark.  I’m sorry I don’t have time to stop and catch up.”

“That’s quite alright,” Quark assured him.  “Please say hello to Drift when you reach Alkaline for me.  It’s been a while since I last got to sit with him.”

“I will be sure of it.”  And with that, the dignified old mech was gone.

Brainstorm felt dumbfounded.  Rodimus Magnus and Alpha Trion were chatting with Quark as if they weren’t two of the most important people on Cybertron.  He was snapped back to attention when said Magnus turned to him, though.

“And who’s this?” Rodimus asked, walking over and standing in front of the teal and white student.

“Uh…” was all Brainstorm’s processor could think to manage.

“This is Brainstorm,” Atomizer introduced before either scientist could.  “He’s from that nerd school Quark goes to.”

“Ah, another student of the Institute of Science!” Rodimus enthused.  “I’m Rodimus Magnus.  I mean, obviously.  That’s why I’ve got the giant hammer.”  The red and orange Magnus looked at said weapon thoughtfully.  “Maybe I should ask if someone can get me a smaller one… or just paint this one red.  Nah, painting it red sounds better.  I wonder if they’d let me put flames on it?”

Brainstorm looked from the Magnus to Quark, who suppressed a laugh behind the resetting of his vocalizer.

“Ugh, carrier, you’re _embarrassing_ me,” Atomizer rolled his optics and closed his mask, pulling his visor back down.  “Let’s go before someone actually _cool_ recognizes us.”  He put his hands on Rodimus’s back and started shoving him towards the door.  “See you later, nerds!”

“Bye, kids!” Rodimus added, waving with his free hand as he let his youngling guide him out of Metroplex.

“Goodbye, Atomizer!  Rodimus Magnus!” Quark called as they left.  He then looked at Brainstorm, who still looked a little overwhelmed.  He chuckled.  “Are you alright?”

“I just… I went from a tiny town in the middle of nowhere, to being invited to the most prestigious science school on Cybertron by the Minister of Science himself, to meeting some of the most important people on the planet in less than two orbitals.  This is… a little much for anyone.  Unless they were raised within walking distance of this place, I guess.”

The white and blue microscope laughed this time.  “That’s a very apt way to put it.”  His levity was cut short as he looked to the divider and spotted a red, green, and black mech very similar in frame to him walking towards them.  He stood up quickly, chassis tensing.

Perceptor strode up, faceplate showing no sign of emotion.  This was quite normal for him, as he preferred to keep his emotions in check.  He stopped not far from Quark, who Brainstorm realized while they were standing next to each other was actually a bit taller.  It wasn’t a significant amount, but he couldn’t help but note it.  “Quark,” the Minister of Science simply said.

“Carrier,” Quark replied lightly.  He played with his servos, looking like a youngling caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.  This, Brainstorm supposed, _was_ the crux of this entire visit.

Perceptor glanced behind Quark and saw the other student.  His optic ridge rose ever so slightly.  “Brainstorm.  I was not expecting you.  Why are you here?” he asked bluntly.

“I got permission to come on a field study,” Brainstorm replied, standing up and stepping over to stand beside Quark.  “I’m trying to determine if Metroplex’s age would have any bearing on its likelihood to have a multiversal counterpart.”

“Fascinating,” Perceptor replied.  It was hard to determine if he was serious or sarcastic, but he didn’t seem the type to be the latter.  “You will have to tell me more about it in your next report.  Meanwhile, Quark and I have something we must discuss at the Ministry of Science.  So, if you will excuse us…”

“May Brainstorm join us?” Quark asked quickly.  He startled both of them, attention returning to him.  He reset his vocals and looked at the floor.  “If he has a future at the Ministry of Science, it’s only logical that he sees it sooner than later.”

Perceptor seemed to consider this a moment.  “Very well,” he finally said.  “Come along.”  He moved towards the exit without another word.

Quark followed closely, helm dipped low.  Brainstorm wanted to reach out and comfort him, but he didn’t know what the Minister would say.  He didn’t want to risk being forbidden from being around the white and blue microscope.

They transformed into their vehicle modes, Perceptor and Quark taking on their roving laboratory altmodes.  Unlike Perceptor, whose altmode would split to allow for the use of the microscope he wore on his shoulder, Quark transformed fully from vehicle to being the microscope himself.  While this was incredibly impressive and allowed for a greater range of ability for his magnification, he’d informed Brainstorm that the medics decided it didn’t qualify him as a triple-changer.  They were extremely rare, almost unheard of being actually born.  The only ones they knew of were experimented on and created, and it rarely ended well for the ‘bot.

Brainstorm’s own altmode wasn’t anything particularly impressive.  It was simply a ground-based vehicle, good for getting from place to place on their metal roads.  With the Flight Program recently gaining approval to be released to the general public, he was considering converting.  A flight-mode just felt like it’d suit him better.

They arrived soon at the Ministry of Science, which wasn’t too far from Metroplex.  They transformed and walked into the series of five interconnected buildings, which were designed with a layout almost the same as the Institute of Science.  It made it easier for graduates to get acclimated quickly.

“You will wait here in the lobby for me, as you did in Metroplex, Brainstorm,” Perceptor informed him.  “I will come to show you around after-”

“Actually, I’d rather stick with you guys,” Brainstorm risked.  “If you don’t mind, I mean.  There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

Perceptor tilted his helm to the side.  “What we are about to discuss is a family matter, Brainstorm.  It is not any of your concern.”

“I know that, and I’ll stay out of it,” Brainstorm promised.  He didn’t actually know if he could keep that promise, but he didn’t want to leave Quark alone.  Hopefully having a witness would soften the blow of whatever words Perceptor had.  “I just… please?” he tried lamely.

Perceptor’s optic ridge went up again, but he didn’t argue further.  “Very well, if you insist.”  He then turned and led the way to a lab with the words, ‘PERCEPTOR, MINISTER OF SCIENCE’ on a plaque on it.  He let the scanner on the door read his energy signature off of his hand, the door sliding open and allowing them to go in.

Brainstorm wasn’t sure what he thought the Minister of Science’s lab would look like, but this wasn’t it.  It was covered from wall to wall in inventions, datapads, parts, experiments, and notes.  There was writing on some of the walls and even the desk.  Several of the projects looked unfinished; some even abandoned and simply left where they were.  The only thing that made it look like anyone actually spent a significant amount of time using it as an office was the holo-projector on the desk with a picture of the Ultra Dion, Perceptor, and a sparkling Quark in the Minister’s arms.  Perceptor looked surprisingly _happy_ in it.  He was actually smiling, leaning into his bondmate.

Perceptor and Quark showed no signs that they were phased by the state of the messy laboratory.  The red and green elder scientist walked over to his desk and sat down behind it, gesturing to the two chairs opposite him.  When Brainstorm and Quark sat down, he turned to his youngling.  Quark’s optics were on the ground.  “I am very disappointed in you.”

Ouch.  That was… a harsh start to it.

Quark cringed, faceplate scrunching up in pain.  “I know…” he whispered.

“I did not want Brainstorm to be here because I did not want him to know the words we had about him,” Perceptor continued.

That surprised Brainstorm.  Words?  About _him_?  The only thing he’d heard about was Quark arguing with his sire, not his carrier.  He looked at the white and blue microscope, but he was still staring at the floor.  He seemed determined not to make optic contact with anyone.

Perceptor’s gaze turned to Brainstorm, pinning him in place.  This wasn’t even his carrier, and as far as he knew he didn’t do anything wrong.  And yet he now felt like apologizing, too.  “Quark commed me last solar to ask why I personally recommended you to the Institute while I made him work to receive an acceptance letter the hard way.”  Oh.  “I informed him that you were from an area where acceptance to a prestigious school would not be easy.  You have both potential and ability, and I would like to see that brought out in a setting where you can mold it into something great.”

“I… I mean, thanks,” Brainstorm said in surprise.  He looked at Quark again, who still wasn’t returning it.

Perceptor looked back to his youngling as well, faceplate still unreadable.  “This answer apparently did not satisfy him.  Quark, you argued that I favor Brainstorm.  As I pointed out last solar, I do not favor anybody.  As the Minister of Science, I am to be impartial outside of the experiments being conducted within this complex.  I have simply given him a small push to help him along his way.  You, however, do not need that push.  You should be able to succeed on your own power.”

Alright, that was fair, Brainstorm supposed.  If Perceptor showed anyone favor, that would cast a suspicious light.  Especially if that person was his own youngling.

“The rest of the conversation will not be discussed in front of Brainstorm, as it has nothing to do with him,” Perceptor continued.  “However, you ended the conversation on words I do not believe are appropriate to say to your carrier, let alone your future Minister.  I suppose I am giving a bit of favor because if anyone other than you had said those things to me, I would have kicked them out of the Institute and barred them from even joining the Science Guild.”  His optics narrowed.  “And then I was informed that you commed your sire.  And while heavily overcharged, something I have expressly forbidden you from.”

“I know,” Quark said quietly, still staring at the ground.  “I’m sorry, carrier.”

“That is not good enough,” Perceptor said sharply.  “It is one thing to say such things to me, Quark.  I understand how stressful it can be to be a scientist.  However, you then broke one of our most important rules, _do not overcharge_.  And to further it, you said things to your sire that I also do not wish to repeat in front of Brainstorm.  Accusing me of favoring someone else, and then of being a sub-par carrier is one thing.  But the things you said to your sire while you were overcharged?”

“I’m sorry…”

“I said that is not good enough.  How dare you embarrass yourself like that?  How dare you embarrass Dion and me?  In what I can only presume was a public micro-refinery, which is something you have no business being in.  If someone recorded that outburst and uploaded it to the galactic net, do you know how much damage that could have done to our reputations?  And you think that an apology would be enough to resolve this situation.  I have every right to pull you out of the Institute of Science and bar you from studying your favored subjects anymore.  I had such high hopes for you, Quark.  But I suppose it was too much.”

Quark looked more embarrassed and smaller the more Perceptor talked.  He finally looked at Brainstorm, completely helpless and miserable.  All he wanted to do was please his carrier, and in one lunar he completely ruined that.

“Wait, you can’t-!” Brainstorm started to defend him, but he was cut off.  First by that sharp look of Perceptor’s turning on him.

Then by Quark.  “Good…” he muttered.

Perceptor looked swiftly to him again.  “I beg your pardon?” he asked.

“I said… good,” Quark repeated louder this time.  He turned his optics from Brainstorm to Perceptor, anger and bitterness burning behind them.  “I never wanted to study them anyway.  They’re not _my_ favored subjects.  They’re what you _want_ my favored subjects to be.”

“Do not be absurd,” Perceptor shot back.  “It is all you have ever studied.”

“It’s what I’ve studied for _you_!” Quark suddenly yelled.  “I studied them because _you_ want me to be a Quantum Astrophysicist!”

“Because you are amazing at it!” Perceptor’s mechanical vocals finally began to rise.

“But that doesn’t mean I want to _do_ it!” Quark said desperately.  “My entire lifecycle, you’ve had your spark set on me doing this because it’s something I _can_ do!  But you never asked me what I _wanted_ to do!”

“Then why have you never said anything before now?” the Minister asked in exasperation.

“Because the only thing I’ve wanted to do more than study microbiology is make you proud of me!”

There was a pause as Perceptor stared at him in alarm.  “You… wish to study microbiology?” he asked, stunned.

“Yes…” Quark admitted, deflating a bit when Perceptor didn’t yell at him further.  “I’ve been fascinated with alien biological microorganisms ever since Botanica let me tour the Organic Research labs, especially at the molecular level.  But you were so proud of the progress I was making in quantum theory that I… I didn’t have the spark to tell you.”

“I had no idea,” Perceptor admitted.  “If you had told me, I would have gladly let you study microbiology instead.”

Quark looked up in surprise.  “You… would?”  He had apparently spent so long convincing himself that Perceptor would never allow him to study anything but what he was already adept at, he never considered the alternative.

“Yes, I would have.  However, this does not change your behavior last solar,” Perceptor said sternly.  “You still embarrassed yourself, your sire, and I.  I still have every state of mind to bar you from returning to your studies, whatever they may be.  Whatever infractions you think I have committed against you as a carrier, that gives you no right to-”

“With all due respect,” Brainstorm cut in, braving the wrath of the Minister.  “Whatever he said, I’m sure it was harsh, but are you even listening to the way you’re talking to him right now?”

“I allowed you to witness this exchange under the agreement that you would not get involved,” Perceptor warned him.  “This is none of your-”

“Quark made it my business last night,” Brainstorm interrupted him.  He knew he was treading on thin ice, but he couldn’t let Quark be pulled from the Institute.  Not when he was just told he still had a chance to do what he always wished.  “Even though he was overcharged, he was nothing but honest with me.  He said he had a charmed sparklinghood, but then he turned into being a youngling and…”

“Brainstorm,” Quark reached out and grabbed the larger science student’s arm, shaking his helm.  “Please.”

“Would you like to finish what he was going to say?” Perceptor asked, looking over his thin, yellow visor at his youngling.  “You became a youngling and… what?”

Quark looked at the floor but didn’t release Brainstorm’s arm.  He shuttered his optics tight, and Brainstorm felt like an aft for having brought it up at all.  This wasn’t his fight.  It wasn’t his place to tell Perceptor how Quark felt.

“Someone answers the question, or I am pulling you both out of the Institute,” Perceptor demanded.

Brainstorm’s helm shot up.  He _wouldn’t_.

One look told him that the Minister absolutely would.

Quark’s servos traveled down his arm to Brainstorm’s hand, grasping it and squeezing tight.  He finally said, “I became a youngling, and you started treating me like an experiment.”

Both Brainstorm and Perceptor looked at him in surprise again.  That wasn’t something Brainstorm had been expecting.

“Do not be-” Perceptor began.

Quark cut him off this time, still not looking at him.  “Don’t try and deny it!” he demanded.  “You talk about me being your youngling, and sire being your bondmate, but that’s not how you see us!  Did sire tell you about me asking him if that was why he spends all of his time on diplomacy missions?  Because you stopped looking at us like we were people?”

Brainstorm squeezed the smaller scientist’s hand back, getting his attention while Perceptor was too stunned to speak.  Quark looked at him, and Brainstorm nodded in reassurance.

Quark looked back to his carrier, optics not leaving him this time.  “When I was 72 stellar cycles old, you introduced me to Jetstorm and Jetfire.  You told me they were your ‘other creations.’  At the time, I was so young I thought you meant they were my brothers.  And I looked at them like that, not even questioning it.  It wasn’t until I was 120 stellars that I realized what you really meant.  I tried to show you something I built.  It was something small and silly; I don’t even remember what anymore.  But you simply pushed me away without a word, not even a glance.  Like I was one of your experiments you got bored with.”  He gestured with his free hand around the room at the dozens of machines that had been abandoned.  “I learned to get my own fuel from the pantry by the time I was 80 stellars because when sire wasn’t home, you would be so busy you’d ignore me when I needed it.  Wheeljack and Red Alert told me that you were simply distracted.  They didn’t think it could be anything serious because I was already taking care of myself well enough.  They probably just thought I was just a lonely youngling.”

Brainstorm watched him, rubbing his servos with a thumb.  He thought he heard enough when Quark was overcharged to understand how bad it had been.  He didn’t realize how wrong he’d been.

Perceptor didn’t seem to know what to say.  Not even to defend himself.  He simply stared at his youngling as if he’d never seen him before.

“I started studying quantum theory and astrophysics because I thought it would make you pay attention to me.  You were improving the Steelhaven at the time, and you were stuck on how to bypass the spacebridges unless absolutely necessary.  So I started reading everything I could about it, learning the equations and disciplines.  I started participating, and you finally… you started noticing me.  So I thought that if I kept studying it, you’d start treating me like your youngling again.  But it worked too well.  You started treating me like one of your understudies instead.  But it was attention, and you actually started praising me when I demonstrated it all well enough.  I just… I just wanted you to be proud of me.

“Sire started spending more time away by then, almost never being home.  When was the last time he was, I wonder?”  Quark paused as if waiting for the answer.  When none came, he continued.  “I went with you to your Council meetings, met all the most important people.  I sat quietly and listened to while the meetings went on.  I started taking an interest in being an active part of the Ministry of Science.  And it worked, but you still… you never gave me the one thing I wanted…”

Perceptor looked perplexed.  “What was it?” he asked.

“Affection,” Brainstorm answered, remembering their conversation.  “All he ever wanted was for you to show him that you loved him.”

“That is absurd,” Perceptor finally said in his own defense.  “I never gave any indication that I did not-”

“Are you even listening to me?!” Quark demanded.  “This is what I mean!  I’m talking to you right now, I’m _explaining_ to you what I want!  How I feel!  But it’s not science, so you ignore it!  You don’t care about anything that you can’t examine in a lab, or write an equation for!”

“Quark, that is quite enough!” Perceptor demanded.  Despite his mechanical vocals giving him a limited ability to emote through them, his faceplate was twisted in rage.

“No, it’s not!  Nothing is enough!” Quark shot back, standing up.  “If you want to call the Institute and tell them that I’m not allowed back, then fine!  But I’m going back there and preparing my thesis!  And if I don’t hear from them that I’m kicked out, I’m going to class, and I’m finishing this term!  Because unlike you, I actually care about finishing the commitments I started!”

Brainstorm looked at the Minister of Science, who had that same look Quark had twice before.  Like he’d been slapped in the face.  They watched Quark punch the button to open the door, retreating out of it without looking back.  “Uh… I’ll just be… going now…” the student said nervously as he got up as well and backed towards the door.  He had to be careful not to hit or trip over anything.

“Yes,” was the only answer that came from Perceptor’s limited vocalizer.  “I think you should.”

With that, Brainstorm turned and ran out of the office to catch up to Quark.

The only thing he was sure about was that his career as a scientist was over before it even began.


End file.
